September 13, 2006

Trudging Down The Paths of the Downtrodden

Since no one else really reads this blog other than Friend Laura and occasionally Mrs. Repressed, I guess it doesn't hurt to be a little more frank and a little less measured than other more well-travelled (or at least "travelled") in my writings here. And today I'm really feeling beat down, the kind of ubiquitous life-smackdown that pounces from the shadows unexpectedly, lands on top of your head and your heart and decides it likes it there just fine, thank you very much, nevermind me while I dig in for stay.

The thing that really sent me down the Paths of the Downtrodden was a set of e-mails I received from the Punkin's Kindergarten teacher yesterday. The Boy has been having some difficulty getting adjusted to his new academic life; I freely admit that. To be perfectly honest, I expected that it might be a little hard for him. Not because he's a bad kid; quite the opposite. He's a smart, friendly little guy who's never met a stranger - he and he sister both are armed and gregarious (don't know where they got those particular traits...!) - but the Boy can be a little ball of energy, to say the least, and he's not the best listener in the world. He loves to play, and he loves to play with other kids. He's a sensitive boy, too, so his feelings at this young age are very often sitting right on the surface, easily touched and hurt. However, he can also have the head density of a Pachycephalosaur and have times where he's not exactly aware of just how devilish he's being at that moment.

There have been more than one little chats with him about proper behavior over the past month since school started. He had a good week, then a bad week, then an excellent week last week, and an even better day on Monday. I really thought we had turned the corner with him. I thought that some of the things were had been saying were finally sinking through the marble layers upstairs.

Then yesterday happened. A bad day. A baaaaaad day. A flurry of e-mails between his teacher and me. It didn't really even make me angry, really; instead, I felt disappointed, like the wind had just been sucked out of my sails. And he knew that I wasn't happy, because when I picked him up and was strapping him into his car seat, he looked up with hopeful eyes and said, "Can we let them slide tonight?"

"Them" being the listed punishments/penalties for getting in trouble at school. To which I replied, "Not a chance, little buddy."

What I didn't realize was that after a contentious, sleep-deprived and nightmare-filled night last night I had a follow-up e-mail from his teacher from yesterday afternoon, received by me after I had already left for the day. In it, she made reference that she has received some "unsolicited" comments from his Art and P.E. teachers about his tendency to talk a lot in class.

Well, that was just like a kick in the balls. What a nice way to start off my day. It really has gotten me down today - it's like the latest and greatest in a series of things that have just been monkey-piling up on top of me for awhile now. It bothers me greatly to think that he's starting to get a reputation as a troublemaker and a bad kid, because nothing could be further from the truth when it comes to my boy. But the implication that some of his teachers feel that way makes me feel like the World's Worst Dad... and not a little angry with the school, might I add.

It's very simple. I teach him as best as I can we he's at home to behave well, treat others nice and to try not to throw food in the cafeteria. However, once I drop him off at the door, I no longer have any control over how he's acting. I can't be there to hold his hand all day. That's why I pay my taxes: it's becomes the school's responsibility. Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of hearing his teachers bitch and moan about how they can't control him, because when it comes down to brass fucking tacks, that their job, dammit. Don't feed me a long line of rationalizations as to why I should feel guilty because you can't keep control of your class. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, the "punishments" that you're using aren't effective in real classroom situations? Is it possible that it's just my child that is the only one causing problems?

In other words, don't try to pass the blame to me for your failure to maintain your classroom. My son is certainly not the first Tasmanian Devil to blow through your school, and he certainly won't be the last. However, isn't "How to handle a handful" in the teacher training handbook somewhere?

And I know where this is all headed. I can see his teacher building her case. She going to try and say that the boy has ADD/ADHD and that we should medicate him. Bullshit. Now, I'm not saying that there aren't legitimate cases of genuine biological imbalances out there. One of the Repressed's sisters benefitted greatly from Ritalin (I think that's what she had), in fact. But what I am saying is that the ADD/ADHD diagnosis has become a crutch for teachers who would otherwise have to develop some actual skills in dealing with students. It's far easier to stuff a kid full of psychoactive drugs than to learn how to deal with students that have a little spark of life to them.

*sigh*

That said, I've not received any e-mails today, so here's hoping that things are going better for him today. All I want is for my kids to be happy, to learn all that they can and to enjoy school.

Is that asking so much?

[Update 8:30 pm:] Well, I ended up having a good, long conversation with the Punkin's teacher. And you know what? It was actually a positive, productive tete-a-tete. She had some really good ideas on how we might be able to turn this around into something positive, and she was quite complimentary with regards to Alex's abilities. It's his performance that she feels needs direction, a sentiment with which I totally agree.

I did ask about how she viewed his behaviour as viewed through the lens of his tendency to get bored easily, leading him to seek other things with which he could occupy his mind. At this point, she's just chalking it up to him being a 5-year old boy. :) She did have some interesting ideas that might not only help him to focus on the job at hand, essentially rewarding him with other "special projects" that would interest him more. That sounded like an excellent idea, so we'll see how that works out.

I guess that my writer's passion got the better of me this afternoon. Then again, it may also have been the by-product of staying up until the ass-crack of 2 am...! I still stand by my points regarding ADD/ADHD, but I do feel a bit more comfortable that they're not heading down that path... at least, not yet.

4 Comments

John, I used to get Ds in "conduct and deportment" in Catholic school because I talked a lot.

I've always been a talker. Talkative people are talkative because they have a lot that they want to share with the world.

I was a second grader with an ulcer, I used to get so stressed out about how the nuns would call my mother and then I would basically get the shit beaten out of me for talking out of turn. Still, I talked...even back then, I knew that I was smarter than all of the kids and most of the teachers, and I felt it was my right to share my thoughts with the world.

It was the one thing that no one could take away from me, no matter how hard they may have tried to grade it out of me or beat it out of me.

And medicating your kid is just not an option. John, I say that as an adult who takes mind-altering drugs every day for a mental illness: don't pump that shit in your little boy's brain.

I will disagree that The Youngun is, was, and always will be YOUR responsibility, and not the school's. And we've established that the school isn't the correct environment for a brain like his to flourish. In fact, such growth isn't even encouraged.

You have a Montessori school in town, yes? The child needs to go where he can do his own thing and be raised in the knowledge that education is a joy, not a chore.

Because believe me...this continues, and you are going to have one very unhappy boy with his own peptic ulcer at the age of 8.

I just can't imagine you ever getting in trouble for speaking your mind, dear friend. I'm guessing you gave those nuns a run for their habits by the end.

I've posted an update to the article above, btw. One thing that I didn't address is something you mentioned: the current learning environment. His teacher made mention that she as had to slow down the rate at which she can introduce things in order to accomodate some of her students that need more time to grasp it. She recognized that this leaves a lot of time for an active mind to wander, but she really doesn't have a choice. You make an excellent point about the one-size-fits-all approach that the public schools simply must take. My heathen side (not to mention our ever-dwindling wallets) won't permit me to send the boy to any school with a religious bent... until the time comes for college, at which point the kids can choose for themselves where they want to go.

Alex's class isn't all that large - twenty or so kids in all. (21, I believe, as that is the number of pieces of carambola I'm sending for their snack taste-testing they're going to be having tomorrow!) I think that's a fair size for a classroom, similar to the one I was in for Kindergarten, lo all those decades ago... My main concern in all this really centers on your main issue above: I don't want the boy to hate school, and I desperately don't want him to start feeling as if he's been pegged by the teachers as a "problem kid". His teacher assured me that the other teachers really don't have that view of him - at least, not yet - and that she fel strongly about turning his behavioral issues around from punishment-based (which was, admittedly, concocted by Mrs. Repressed and me) to the more positive rewards-based strategery. :)

So, we'll see. I'm a bit more hopeful now, truth be told. And I know the Boy has it in him to be great...

I used to get notes sent home to my teachers because I played kickball "with the boys."
The problem is that very few people who do it actually LOVE kids and want to do it. It's an easy degree and most pinheads can get through life teaching preset lesson plans and just jabbering away whatever the acceptable jargon is.

Glad to hear no one pushed the ADD thing on you. ADD is a bunch of bullshit propegated by people not willing to beat the crap out of their kids.

I live for catharsis. Heck-shuckydurn, I'm happy for any sort of creative outlet nowadays. :) And while I haven't made a whole lot of comments over at The Wang, I dig your digs a lot. (See the hotlink as a Daily Must on my main page...!)

Y'know, after a few days of reflection on this entry, I realize that I had attributed a lot more of my own personal fears and feelings about what might happen to my behaviorally-challenged duo during their school years to the teacher than was really warranted. Ever since I talked to her on the phone last week, Alex has been doing much better, so something must be going right. I think it's probably a combination of an evolving approach to The Boy by his teacher combined with Alex finally starting to get a grasp on the basic ground rules of his new life as a "school-ager".

And while I recognize that ADD is a real condition for a few kids here and there, I agree whole-heartedly that it's used more as an excuse for lackadaisical teachers who simply don't have the skills to deal with children not riddled with Ritalin or addled with Adderal. (For once, the name of the drug actually makes sense, doesn't it?)

After our conversation last week, I don't think that Alex's current "main" teacher has that in mind - she has been a teacher for some 35+ years. However, I don't doubt that some of the other teachers in that school either do... or will. I suppose I'll always have that in the back of my mind as the kids work their way through their academic lives... and, yes, Psych 101 students, I do realize that this is more of a projection of my own fears about my kids than it may be in reality, but I've seen it happen too often with some of my other siblings and friends to think that it's not a possibility.